


entangled

by bluebeholder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Minor Physics Blather, POV Third Person Omniscient, Post-Season/Series 11, Season/Series 11 Spoilers, Sharing a Bed, Speculation, just crying over these idiots don't mind me, quantum entanglement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is over.</p>
<p>Unobserved, Dean and Castiel finally figure things out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	entangled

**Author's Note:**

> If this ship does not sail I will face God and walk backwards into Hell to drag Dean Winchester's sorry ass out to make sure he and Cas end up together.
> 
> That said, here you go. Minor physics nerdery (a morning spent taking a Wiki Walk does wonders), a first kiss, and a shot at 3rd-person-omniscient narration.

It was funny that people thought they would make a great couple, because if you just looked at how often they talked the idea made no sense. Their roads never overlapped very often. Dean had people to save, monsters to hunt, business to take care of. Castiel was always off looking after the affairs that Heaven needed him to manage. It was easy to forget each other. Dean didn’t need to call Cas because he and Sam could handle just about everything they encountered. Castiel almost never called Dean because he had other allies to turn to in a crisis.

It always took being in the same room for things to make sense between them. When Castiel fluttered into the room and their eyes locked, he felt like he was seeing Dean’s soul for the first time all over again. When Dean stood close to Cas and feel the weight of Castiel’s whole being pressing in on his soul, he sometimes thought his heart was going to stop. When they were together, sometimes it was all they could do not to just crash into each other and hang on, come Hell or high water.

But they didn’t do that. If they did—if Dean gave in to what he wanted and kissed Cas’s wounds better after a bad fight, if Castiel lay down beside Dean in some motel bed and held him until the nightmares went away—if they did any of that, they would never be able to stop. So they stood apart, and confined themselves to meaningful looks and the briefest of touches.

Castiel could explain it in scientific terms. He could describe the equations, tell how the numbers work, write out the proofs, or simply narrow it down to the explanation that the very particles and energies that make them up are entangled. To observe one is to observe the other; to interact with one is to interact with the other. Even when they are a universe apart, they are still attuned to each other. On the most basic level of their beings, they are one. (If it was possible to get Dean to talk about the subject, he would just say that they’re close friends. And that, for him, would mean the same thing in the end.)

Somehow it was easier to forget all of that than try to really deal with it. Because it was big, and scary, and the sort of thing that meant their lives would have to change forever. The pressure of the observing world pushed them apart and changed their course. So what if people wrote plays where they kissed, or wrote stories where they held hands, or imagined them as lovers? There were bigger things to take care of. Castiel put it at the back of his mind, and Dean drank until he didn’t think about it, and neither of them spoke of it to anyone at all. 

But now it’s over. There’s nothing really left for the Winchesters to do—the defeat of the Darkness saw to that. People who need saving can be saved by other hunters. Monsters that need ganking can be ganked by someone else. There’s no more family business to take care of. No more need of Team Free Will.

They sit for a while in the bunker’s kitchen, staring at each other blankly and wondering where to go from here. Sam has his laptop in front of him, but it’s closed and he’s not inclined to open it. Dean holds a beer in his hand but doesn’t really drink it, and when he does try to drink he can’t seem to taste anything. Castiel just sits, angel blade in his hands, wondering if he will ever need to use this again or if it would be just as well if he threw it into the ocean.

Sam gets up abruptly. He leaves the laptop where it is. At Castiel’s worried look, he smiles faintly and shrugs. “Gonna go to bed. Might as well get some sleep.” He grips Dean’s shoulder for a moment, then Castiel’s, and with one backward glance walks out of the room. A moment later, they hear his door shut, deeper in the bunker.

The only sound for a few moments is the humming of the refrigerator. It doesn’t take long for Dean to come to a decision. He gets up and drops the beer bottle in the sink. “C’mon,” he says, standing in the doorway.

Castiel sets the angel blade down on the table and rises to his feet. “Where?” he asks.

Dean’s heart speeds up. But he holds out his hand anyway. “Bed,” he says. He doesn’t drop Cas’s gaze. What has he got to lose, anyway?

It turns out that Dean’s hand is warm. Castiel closes his eyes as Dean leads him down the long hallways of the bunker and tries not to let fear pull him away. Where else would he go?

In his bedroom, Dean turns his back to Cas and shuts the door on the bright lights of the hallway. It’s dimmer in here, more suited to…whatever this is going to be. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. It shouldn’t worry him. Cas is still in here, after all, right? Still, he leans against the door for a second just to catch his breath.

“Dean?” Castiel asks hesitantly. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to move, not anymore. They didn’t just tear up the script this time. They burned it and scattered the ashes in the sea. There are no Heavenly mandates, no more commandments, no more rules. He is adrift, and he isn’t even sure how he is supposed to feel about that.

“’m fine, Cas,” Dean says. He pulls himself away from the safety of the door and turns around, summoning up a smile. “We did it. Gotta be fine after that.”

Castiel tilts his head and squints at Dean. He’s not sure it works like that, but now might not be the time to express that concern. “Then…what are we doing?”

“Sammy had the right idea,” Dean says, with a fond glance over his shoulder. “Time for overworked hunters to get some shut-eye.”

He thinks he knows the answer—he isn’t stupid—but Castiel has to ask anyway. “Why did you want me to come with you?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck with one hand, looking anywhere but at Cas. “Thought you might wanna spend the night. I mean, just if you want it—no pressure, Cas, I—”

Castiel steps in front of Dean and takes his hand again. “I do want it,” he says, voice quiet. 

He’s pretty sure that Cas can feel him instantly relax, but he tries to pretend that he was never nervous to begin with. “Oh,” he says. “Then…yeah.”

They prepare for sleep—or at least Dean prepares for sleep, since Castiel is only going to be awake for the entire night anyway. Dean gets rid of his boots and outer layers, but leaves his jeans and t-shirt in place. Castiel disposes of his trenchcoat, tie, suit jacket, and shoes, but leaves the rest. It’s a silent, mutual agreement that neither one is ready for anything else yet. 

Dean is the first one to climb into bed. He stays on top of the covers and lies there, trying to get his pounding heart to calm down. Castiel follows him, and although he does not usually truly lie down because he does not really sleep, he lies down and rolls onto his side, facing Dean.

Neither one shuts off the light. They just stare at each other. Dean thinks that Cas, for all that he’s got angel healing powers, looks battered and worn, tattered around the edges like an old coat. Castiel thinks for the first time that Dean looks older, fine lines etched around his eyes and some light gray mixed into his hair. They haven’t escaped all their trials unscathed, but they’re here. 

Before he can lose his nerve, Castiel shifts closer to Dean and works his arms around the hunter, pulling them close to each other. Dean goes willingly, letting Cas hold him. “We made it, buddy,” he says, muffled in Cas’s shirt.

“We did,” Castiel says.

Dean laughs, quiet and fragile, clutching at the angel. “Never thought I was gonna see this.”

Castiel smiles wryly at the top of Dean’s head. “Neither did I,” he says. 

After a while, Dean pulls back and looks Cas in the eye again. “Where do we go from here?” he asks quietly. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel has to admit. He shrugs helplessly. “There aren’t any more rules, no more purpose. I don’t know what to do…you might have been right, Dean. I am a bit of a tool.”

“Well, sometimes,” Dean says. He taps Cas on the nose. “But not like ‘Heavenly hammer’ sort of tool. Just a dick.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “The same to you,” he mutters. But now he’s unsettled, twitchy, back to feeling like he needs to run away again.

“Cas. Look at me,” Dean says. The angel’s eyes track to him, meeting his. “It’s gonna be okay. We are gonna figure this out. You and me.”

Castiel nods, but isn’t convinced. 

On an impulse driven by seven years of silence, seven years of “meant to be” and quantum entanglement, seven years of forgetting just how important Cas is until he walks into the room, Dean leans up to press a soft, gentle kiss to the angel’s lips.

The lights flicker gently.

Castiel leans back and studies Dean’s face. “How long?” he asks.

“Since Hell,” Dean says. He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “Maybe since forever.”

“Oh,” Castiel says, and he’s not sure what else to say. He’s not sure what else he can say.

Dean draws back a bit, unable to look at the angel. “I know it’s…it’s ridiculous. Like a fish falling in love with a star,” he says, “but…Cas, buddy, even if you don’t feel the same way…don’t go. I don’t wanna forget you and I always do when you leave.”

Castiel feels like he’s going to burst his vessel’s skin with joy, singing so loudly that his siblings will hear him past the sealed gates of Heaven. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, ducking down to look Dean in the eye. “Dean Winchester, I was lost the moment I saw your soul in Hell or maybe for eons before that. And yet somehow I forget every time I leave your side exactly how magnificent and important you are. So if I have the choice…I will never leave you.”

Finally, they are alone, and together, and at peace. The equations are solved. Unobserved, moving without interference from man or angel or God, they confront eternity together. They turn out the lights, and hold each other close in the darkness. Dean sleeps, safe at last, and Castiel watches over him.


End file.
